


The Sex Hair

by bunbunjolras



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 03:54:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunbunjolras/pseuds/bunbunjolras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Enjolras is a tricky little shit and Grantaire gets one inappropriate boner too many</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sex Hair

It started out as a matter of convenience and comfort. The first time they’d had sex, Enjolras had paused, perched astride Grantaire’s chest, and with a few quick, practiced movements twisted his hair into a neat braid and tied it off with a bright red hair elastic. It kept his hair back from his face until they were lying next to each other, basking in the glow of post-coital relaxation, smoke curling out of his nose from his clove cigarette, Enjolras stretched out on his belly, his hair coming loose of his braid. Grantaire leaned over and pulled the hair tie out and combed his fingers through his golden curls, leaning over to press a kiss to the crown of his head.

“That was…exhiliarating,” he murmured, balancing his cigarette between his lips and getting up to pull a pair of old green boxers on.

“Hmm, yes,” Enjolras agreed, rolling over a little to watch him go, his hair spilling forwards over his shoulder. “We should do it again some time.”

Grantaire smirked and headed out of the room to go to the bathroom and then fetch a bottle of water, which was quickly abandoned when he returned to the bedroom and was greeted by Enjolras fingering himself lazily, his hair twisted back into a sloppy braid, wearing nothing but a devilish smile.

Sometimes when he came home from work, Grantaire would find Enjolras with his hair pulled up into a neat plait, pushing him back into the wall or the door and kissing him breathless the moment the door was shut, or jerking himself off slowly as he lounged on the bed, or kneeling on the floor in the lounge waiting to suck Grantaire’s cock. Over time, he came to realise that braided hair meant Sex Will Happen, and after a while began to refer to the braid as The Sex Hair – to himself, of course, Enjolras could never know.

It never occurred to him that this association was going to cause him trouble until one afternoon when his phone buzzed across the table he was sharing with Jehan and Joly at a cafe, and he found himself staring down at a picture of his boyfriend, hair plaited and wearing nothing but a bright red ribbon around his neck and a demure, innocent smile. With a pitiful attempt at clearing his throat, which turned into more of a squeak than anything else, he got to his feet and hurried off to the bathroom before his erection became too noticeable.

After a short and overwhelmingly intense wank in the bathroom stall, he found himself looking down at the picture on his phone – it was the ribbon that had turned him on so much, right? Enjolras all tied up for him, like a present to be unwrapped. That had to be it.

But of course it wasn’t.

It all came to a rather embarrassing head when they were gathering in the Musain one night, and after his hair fell into his face a few times as he leaned over the table he’d spread his notes about their newest cause, Enjolras growled a little and set about braiding his hair to keep it back from his face. He went back to speaking to the group as a whole until he looked over at Grantaire, who was sat in the corner of the room, as usual, with a bottle of wine in hand, as usual. What was unusual, though, was that the wine was full and yet Grantaire was flushed and glassy eyed as he watched Enjolras speak.

“Can you take over?” he asked Combeferre, and without waiting for an answer stalked over to Grantaire, scowling at him. “What’s wrong?”

Grantaire looked up at him, a mildly terrified expression on his face. His hands twitched in his lap and Enjolras looked down briefly to see his pants tented over his crotch, and the blond’s eyes widened.

“Your hair gave me a boner,” Grantaire murmured, bemused and horrified all at once. “The Sex Hair gave me a boner.”

Enjolras scoffed and rolled his eyes. “What on earth are you talking about?”

Grantaire reached up to hook his hand around the back of Enjolras’ neck and pulled him down into a bruising kiss, breathless when they separated. “This is your bloody fault,” he murmured. “You always put your hair up like that when we’re gonna have sex and my stupid dick’s started to associate seeing you with your hair like that with us getting nasty.”

Enjolras leaned back far enough for Grantaire to see his devilish smirk. “Exactly like I wanted.” He stepped back and pulled Grantaire to his feet with him, grabbing his hands and pulling him close enough that they could walk through the cafe to the bathroom without anyone seeing their predicament.

“Classical conditioning,” Enjolras murmured as Grantaire kissed a sloppy line down his neck to nip at his collar bone. “Associating sex with a hairstyle. I knew it was starting to affect you when I sent you that picture of me, the one with the ribbon? Joly and Jehan were so worried when you went off to the bathroom that day and didn’t come back for ages that they texted me.”

“Yeah okay brilliant, stop talking about them please?” Grantaire gasped, grinding his hips up against Enjolras’ feverishly. “You did this to me on purpose?”

Enjolras laughed and sank to his knees gracefully. “Yes. And what fun it’s been.”

And that’s the story of The Sex Hair. Coincidentally, it’s also the story of how Grantaire and Enjolras were asked to leave Le Cafe Musain and not come back until their libidos were in check.


End file.
